Emma's Viewpoints
by TheLadySong
Summary: ~LEAVING FANFICTION.NET- explanation inside~ A set ofViewpoints about a girl who is immortal
1. Explanation of my departure

I'm leaving. If you really want to see Viewpoints, go to viewpointstamorapierce.homestead.com/main.html and check it out there. I'm just so out of the loop here I think I'll no longer post here- just, i want to start fresh where, well halfway where nobody knows me and halfway where people are there because they want to be. Viewpoints will not be erased from Fanfiction.net, but no additions will be made. If you need a good reason, or you really want me to stay, mail me at theladysong@hotmail.com. But I have a good reason here: I am feeling fairly low and I no longer want to hold my work up to be subjected to public criticism and flaming. Thank you and goodbye,  
-Song 


	2. First Meetings

Emma's Viewpoints  
Chapter 1-'First Day'  
  
Viewpoints is a project my friend and I are working on. Originally, we both chose 2 characters each, and over the next little bit, we will both post these 'viewpoints' of life in the page's wing in 465 HE. The Lady of Lorraine is my partner on writing these. Give us feedback on what you think. Lorraine's probably gonna kill me for posting this before hers, so you know what happened if you hear no more from me.  
  
Silvertree is a cold mountain fief in Tortall's Grimhold Mountains. It is, as the name might imply, a source of lumber, and silver. Lady Susanne of Silvertree, widow to the Lord Jessen, is one of the king's greatest supporters and one of the most liberal nobles in the realm. Before Lord Jessen died, she gave birth to triplets, three girls with emerald eyes and dark brown eyes. The oldest, Emma, had always shown an aptitude for combat. Next, Emelia, showed only a passion for ladylike arts, and somewhat of a cutthroat nature. Emily, the youngest, was always the best with animals. Even at the young age of nine, she joined the King's Couriers, a group of spies for the King under Baron George of Pirate's Swoop.   
It was when they were nine that they truly parted ways. When riding on a hunt not long after Midwinter, Emma had an encounter was a unicorn and was cut by its horn. Her most unusual form of Wild Magic showed through in her ability to communicate with immortals.   
When the Emperor Ozorne of the Carthaki Empire pierced his flesh with a stormwing feather, he turned into a stormwing. This wasn't what happened to Emma; it was something far different. Emma was counted as an immortal, just as much as a centaur or a unicorn. She only looked human.  
She didn't tell anyone this, though. As she came to the Royal Palace to begin training as a page in the summer of 465, she learned the gods were once again in Tortall. She also learned that, for one reason or another, all the girls that came under Lord Wyldon's juristiction that year kept their secrets well hidden.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
Emma dressed nervously. Reea, the new head servant in the page's wing, had shown her her room and told her to get ready for dinner. Reea had some sort of problem with girl pages, which showed through most obviously. Emma sighed as she pulled on her favorite green breeches, white shirt, and quilted deerskin vest. The top of her dark hair was pulled back, and tied with a braided string from the hair of the unicorn that had cut her. She smoothed her hair with calloused hands, took a deep breath, and went into the hall.  
About six girls stood talking at one end of the hall, as well as a couple of boys. Emma made for this group nervously, and stood on the outside. A girl with an ugly face and soft hands Emma would bet had never touched a spinning wheel, let alone a spear, was talking.  
"Every year more girls come. I didn't want to come, but mother and father said it was the only way for me to make something of myself." she spotted Emma. "Look, another one." she smiled in what seemed to be a friendly manner. "Hello. I'm Rhiannon of Rowan Branch. Who might you be?"  
"Emma of Silvertree. How many first-years are girls?" she asked, curiously.  
"Four." spoke a girl with blond hair and blue eyes, incredibly pretty, but with a haunted look. "I'm Laylia of Kirgiz Step. The other new girl is Clarinda of Green Mountain, and then there's Amice of Pirate's Swoop, the Lioness' daughter, a second-year. By Lady Song, she's good."  
"Who's Lady Song?" Emma asked.  
"One of the new goddesses in Mithros's court." it was a boy this time. (please note that the Lady Song is only my pen name, and I do not claim to be a goddess or anything more than a mere mortal who enjoys chocolate and writing) "She is the patron of warrioresses, unusual magic and child mages. My name is Padriag of Wainslirt."  
"Pleased to meet you." Emma shook his hand. At this point the group was joined by a short, muscular girl with copper hair and violet eyes.  
"Amice!" cried Rhiannon. Amice dressed in sensible white shirt and tan breeches. She didn't seem overly pleased at Rhiannon's greeting. Emma didn't blame her; Rhiannon seemed a skirt, through and through. Her dress was even more fasionable than Emelia's newest one, which was saying something.  
"Lord Wyldon is coming." Amice said directly, not bothering to reply. "We'd better get ready. Rhiannon, I'd suggest you do something with your hair. Lord Wyldon's out of temper, and he'll give you a lecture. Your gown is far too fancy. Please, if you want to stay, my advice is to act like a boy and blend in with the scenery."  
Rhiannon looked put out and gave a toss of her head, and all eighteen inches of hair, but did not reply. Lord Wyldon approached from the other end of the hall, and the group went to meet him. 


	3. Girls Like That

Emma's Viewpoints - "Girls Like That"  
  
Okay, people, I spent half of last night talking to the porcelain god, so you had better realize how much it means that I'm braving soiling this keyboard today to write this. I would REALLY appreciate a couple of reviews. thank you. Now on to the story.  
  
When Emma got to the newly constructed baths, erected because now there were simply too many lady pages to make them go back to their rooms, she was exausted. Amice steered her around the doors with ease, and they settled gratefully into the warm water.  
"Don't complain." Amice said. "Think of poor me. I'd just gotten used to doing all that in the morning, and then they go and add two pounds to my back. You people have it easy."  
Emma smiled in amusement. Sitting there in the water, Amice's face was the picture of bliss, with her messy copper hair flying up in all directions. Over the past day she had gotten to know her sponsor pretty well, and had learned to keep away from the temper Amice had inherited from her famous mother.  
Lunch was simple. The girls sat together at one big table in one corner of the dining hall. Emma noticed that Rhiannon sat at another table with a bunch of boys. Amice caught her gaze. "The betting is that she'll get kicked out in a month. I have two gold nobles on her leaving within a week. She's a flirt, and not fit to be a page, she is."  
Emma had to agree. Rhiannon had shown up for practice late, and with all her hair loose, and had then been late for lunch, having to fix her hair from the tangles recieved in training. Already, she was not liked by most of the pages. The boys she was sitting with didn't seem to have any problems with her, though.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
Afternoon classes sped by. Ettiquite was probably Emma's worst subject, Laylia of Kirgiz Step's reluctant best, and the only one in which Rhiannon paid any attention to the teacher, not the boys. Court manners were confusing; there were bows, as a knight, curtsies, as a lady, and all other bits and pieces that made Emma want to run back to Silvertree, where life was simple.  
Emma didn't have the Gift, but she had a strange connection to immortals she told no one about. That was why she feared her lessons in magic. They were taught by an immortal, and there was nothing to keep him from recognizing someone who, inside, was a distant relative. When classes were over, Emma breathed a sigh of relief. After dinner she got her books and joined her friends in the library, in a study group started by Kelardry of Mindelan eleven years before.  
Just that thought comforted Emma. Great lady knights like Alanna, Kelardry and all others had all made a beginning here; all it took was desire.  
Working together, no one noticed Rhiannon slip out. It wasn't until the next morning they heard the news.  
"Caught with Idris of Eldorne, a squire." Amice said grimly. "Her room, door shut, and you wouldn't believe what her maid said they were doing. Lord Wyldon had a fit and sent them both home in disgrace. She left early this morning. The betting was so high, I got five gold nobles in the end. Serves her right. Girls like that are no better than they oughtta be."  
All Emma could think was, one down in the first week. How many of us will last? 


	4. Where I Am

Emma's Viewpoints  
Where I Am.  
  
Laylia turned up the next morning, with no work done, and not saying a word to anyone. Emma finally cornered her after lunch.  
  
"Where were you last night?" She hissed. "We looked all over, and no one could find you."  
  
Laylia put on a look of sweetly innocent puzzlement that was as false as a silk rose. "What are you talking about? I was in my rooms all last night."  
  
Emma snorted with derision. "Oh, come on, Laylia. Amice looked in your rooms. You were nowehere to be found."  
  
A mix of anger and fear crossed Laylia's face. "What business do any of you have in my rooms? You had no right!"  
  
Emma would have pursued the matter, but at that most convinient moment, the warning bell rang, and Laylia scurried off like a mouse. Emma stared after her, thinking, I wonder what her problem is?  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
After that, the only person Laylia ever spent more than a grudging five seconds with was that Thom-of-something-or-rather. Emma put it out of her head. Porcelain dolls could stay with pretty boys. Emma was going to be a knight.  
  
She spent a lot of time with Amice. Emma liked the matter-of-fact manner of the stocky redhead. Amice even spoke a little different, with a peasant's influence inherited from the baron George. While Emma knew the delicate swordplay, it was Amice who was master of the staves and unarmed combat. From Clarinda, the quiet little mouse, they learned tilting grips to improve accuracy, and from Creshan of Sand River, a boy who was deemed to be "as good as the rest of us" they recieved help on history and law.  
  
Hazing was a little different from what it had once been. 'Earning your way' now especially applied to the girls. To make sure no girl slipped through, everyone added his little bit to make it a little tougher for them. This was useful, though. The general population by now accepted that girls could, and would, be knights, so they were demanding that no allowance at all be made for the girls. In practice, this was all very well and good, but it provided for grumbles in the study group at night. Emma finally put her foot down.  
  
"Why are you complaining?" she demanded of the older girls, emerald eyes blazing. "Do you mean to say you'd like for them to go easy on us? That girls can't do it? Well then, I do believe the Queen's Ladies has a couple of spots open!" she flung the library door wide. "Well, who's for staying, and who's for being a bunch of skirts?"  
  
No one spoke for a minute. Then Clarinda spoke up. "I think I like breeches better anyway."  
  
They all laughed, but some of them eyed the open door almost with longing.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
"No, not like that." Gessa drew back her staff. "Up a litle more, in an arc, and harder. Much harder."  
  
Beside her, Creshan winked at Emma. "She just wants to get walloped."  
  
Gessa stuck her tongue out and resettled her weapon. "You're supposed to wallop me."  
  
Emma swung her staff up in an arc, swishing up and coming down to collide with the older girl's staff. A few splinters came loose from the force of the impact, but Gessa's arms didn't waver. She inspected the chips. "The varnish was a little thin."  
  
Emma eyed the fourth-year with respect. Gessa of Stanzin was strong. Her arms were thick and muscular, as was every other inch of her large and well-built frame.  
  
The rest of the study group looked at the splinters with awe. Amice took the staff herself. "Splinters in oak." she said, impressed despite herself. "Nice work."  
  
That from Amice, and the looks from everyone else, was so much to Emma. As Gessa swung her staff into the block position, she thought, there's nothing else that I'd rather do right now. I pity the ones that go to convents. 


	5. Conflicting Forces

Amice and Emma's Viewpoints- "Conflicting Forces"  
  
This contains a lot of plot. theladyoflorraine and I have decided we both have different ideas for where this is going, so our stories won't always match up.  
Enjoy aaaaand... Review.   
  
The frost settled in early that November. The passes to Silvertree closed, but letters came through from Pirate's Swoop, form Amice's family, and from Emily, Emma's sister, who was in training there.  
  
They were on the training field when a contingent of the King's Own limped in. They had just barely survived a spidren attack. Lord Wyldon ordered the pages to prepare to ride out within the day.  
  
Amice came by Emma's room, pack over one shoulder. "So, what do ya think? We get our first crack at killing immortals."  
  
The hair on the back of Emma's neck stood up. "Not all immortals are bad, Amice."  
  
Amice snorted. "Oh really? You seriously think that?"  
  
Emma whirled around. "I know it, Amice Cooper. I know immortals better than you ever will." she finished stuffing her clothes in her pack and stormed out.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Emma knew immortals probably better than anyone else in the whole of the Eastern Lands. When on a hunt when she was nine, Emma encountered a unicorn, its horn shattered at the tip from a human. In rage it had charged her, and sliced her palm open with what was left of his horn.  
When Ozorne cut his arm with a stormwing feather, he became a stormwing. The gods smiled on Emma that day, and she did not become a unicorn, at least on the outside. Inside, she was an immortal, with use of unicorn magic, able to command immortals. She never told a soul about the unicorn, or any of it. Not even her sisters knew. Emma intended to keep it that way.  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
As it turned out, the spidrens laired at a fief just south of Silvertree. The glory of unicorns Emma allied with lived here. (for those of you who don't know, the proper term for a group of unicorns is a glory, not a herd) She hoped to see them again, but was afraid. If all the pages shared Amice's view of immortals, they would kill the first unicorn that came seeking its ally.  
  
Amice was puzzled. Of course immortals were evil; Emma was just naieve. Gods knew that her mother, sister and brothers spent enough time fighting them. Amice felt excited. Immortals had killed many Tortallan men; it was her turn to strike back.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
They made camp near Trebond that night. Emma was still angry with Amice, and shared a tent with Gessa and Laylia. She tossed and turned with nightmares of dying unicorns, and woke up sweating in the middle of the night. She dressed in her warmest clothing, and went outside.  
  
The camp slept, bathed in moonlight. A horse of two snorted, and the wind whistled in the branches. She sat on a stump and listened.  
  
In the night, she could feel the life around her. She breathed deep and meditated.  
  
All around her were the pages and teachers. The horses were picketed at the other end of camp. From far away, Silvertree way, she could feel her glory coming closer. Emma/unicorn settled among them, but not in body. She greeted the leader.  
  
It has been a long time, the lead mare said.  
  
I have been away. I am here because spidrens threaten humans here.  
  
They threaten us also. We lost a yearling.  
  
Emma respected their loss.  
  
I will help you, she said.  
  
The lead mare nickered. We come to help our glory member.  
  
Emma bade them farewell and let her mind drift elsewhere. She came back to her body with a start when she felt another force not a mile behind her.  
  
The spidrens were making for camp.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Emma scrambled to alert the teachers quietly. She ran into problems explainig to Lord Wyldon exactly how she knew the spidrens were there, but Amice, who had the Gift, confirmed they were out there and there was no time to lose.  
  
The camp armed themselves with spears. Emma could feel the spidrens coming closer, but they wouldn't get here before the unicorns did,and with help like that it would all be over rather shortly.  
  
They fanned out in a line on either side of Lord Wyldon, armed with spears. Emma thanked the Great Mother and Lady Song that the unicorns came to her first.  
  
Lord Wyldon raised his arm to command the attack, but Emma spoke up. "Wait." She took two steps to meet the unicorn that had cut her the year before.  
  
Amice watched in amazement as the petite figure stroked the unicorn's nose. "Do not touch them, Silvertree." Lord Wyldon said, teeth clenched. "He will most likely gore you before you can think."  
  
The unicorn lowered its ivory horn to charge at the man, but Emma gripped its horn and swung its face around. "No." she said. "There may be boys here, and boys, they may be immortals, but we fight for a common cause, so we fight together." she swung up onto the unicorn's back  
  
"Page Emma! What in Mithros's name are you doing?"  
  
She turned to look at him coolly. "I am joining my glory to fight the threat to our boundaries, Lord Wyldon. If you fight against the spidrens, you fight with us, but I fight to save our young and territorry."  
  
To see what happens next, you know the drill. Scroll down just a little further, type in stuff, and you get to see what happens. No reviews, and Emma and Amice are frozen in that moment in time forever...ever...ever... *evil laugh* Will the spidrens whup them all? Will Wyldon kill Emma for being an immortal? Will Amice and Emma ever make up? I could go on forever. But only if you review.  



	6. The Cold, Hard Truth

Emma's Viewpoints-It doesn't need a title  
  
I'm sick of this whole viewpoints thing, so...  
  
Emma packed the last of her clothing in her trunk and slammed it shut. She noticed Amice leaning against the doorframe.  
  
"So you're leaving?" Amice asked.  
  
Emma nodded. "I'm of no use in a place where no one trusts me."  
  
Amice came in and sat on the bed. Emma sat on her heels. Emma was an immortal inside, as much as a stormwing or wyvern, and could never die unless she was killed.  
  
"Well, the whole court knows. What are you going to do now?"  
  
"Start over. Live with the commoners. Pretend I'm a runaway from the Grimhold mountains and live as a hostler. Get married. Watch my husband die. Watch my children die. Die one day myself, maybe. Maybe live in the Divine Realms. But I can't be a knight. Not anymore."  
  
Amice looked up. "You are welcome to a place with us, or at Olau, with my brother. But Emma, can't you stay?"  
  
Emma looked at Amice frankly. "No. And I can't live at court. I'll just live in peace. And not worry about what people think of me because of what I am."  
  
Amice nodded. She got up to help Emma with her trunk. "Just know that you are always my friend."  
  
Emma clasped her hand. "Forever."  
  
  
Yeah, well, Emma is going to live with the commoners, unless someone can convince me and a group of pages and squires, as well as Lord Wyldon, that Emma can come back. Which will be a problem, seeing as we all know how inflexible Lord Wyldon is. Maybe if I'm bored I'll do Emma's adventures outside the palace. And now think of this as you read Lorraine's: two down in the first two months. 


	7. The Great Road South

Emma's Viewponts: The Great Road South  
  
Emma flexed her aching muscles. To ease the cramps that came naturally after riding at a trot for the better part of a week, she hooked her knees on the swells on either part of the saddle horn, and lay with her back flat on Vervain's rump. She was travelling through Tortall's lake country, and as she came to a small stone bridge, her gelding stopped.  
With a groan, she hauled herself upright. She saw figures down the road. Using her magic, she intensified her sight, disliking what she saw.  
The men were haggard and scraggly, and both they and their horses looked like they could make use of quite a few meals each.  
She made sure that her dirk was in a ready position to draw. It was good that at home they had learned a few tricks of the dirk, the Gallan short sword. Emma was travelling alone, and the new pages had just barely begun learning the sword. In both of her boots, strapped to her wrists, and hidden in her braid, she bristled with a collection of daggers and small throwing knives.  
There were only two of them, but Emma wondered if they really held the advantage. Neither of them looked as if they could put up much of a fight.  
As she approached them, one smacked the other. "Git an eye open, you toothless oaf, someone's a-comin', and a girl, it looks." They both chuckled wheezily, and a cold fury filled Emma's chest. She could guess that they weren't so glad of a girl because she seemed easier to fight.  
"Oh really." Emma pulled her small, round shield off Vervain's hind, and settled it in her left hand. "It looks so."  
One of them leaned on a battered staff. He grinned drunkenly at Emma until his companion hit him again.  
"Oh, yisss. Ye see, dearie, this be a private road. Ye got te pay us somehow or ye can't pass."  
Idiots, Emma thought. She shifted, and drew her dirk. "My name is Lady Emma of Silvertree, Noble of the realm of Tortall, royal page and messenger to His Highness King Jonathan III and Lord Wyldon of Cavall, member of the Cold Mountain Glory of unicorns, and someone you would severely not like to cross. I demand that you let me pass."   
The bandit with the staff looked a little dazed at her full title. His younger counterpart sneered. "A lady page, well well. I'd bet that yer title is true and I'm Crown Prince, and this be me old dad Jonathan. Pay up."  
Emma waggled her dirk to distract them, then reached back on pretense of scratching her head. "Well, see, boys, I'm fresh out of coin, maybe at the next-"  
Her knife flashed, embedding itself at the top of the oldster's staff, just missing his chin. In the moment of confusion, she swung her dirk up, the fine Gallan blade slicing the younger bandit's bow in half, and brought it back up to rest at his throat. "See here. You keep quiet, and I only turn you in to the local magistrate. You make trouble, and I'll leave parts of you here and turn the rest into the magistrate." She twisted the blade, pressing it into the man's throat, as it gleamed in the hot noon sun.  
He looked terrified as he eyed the blade. To Emma's right, out of the corner of her eye, the older man made a lunge. She snaked out her foot and curled it around the youngster's feet, knocking him to the ground. Emma whirled and struck out with the dirk, before she could even think. He dropped the knife he was holding, his sleeve blossoming with blood.  
Emma lowered her blade, still ready to fight. The younger man looked like she had knocked the breath out of him, and the older man was nursing his wound. Emma exhaled sharply when she saw that he was cut to the bone. Quickly, she took a lenth of rope from her saddlebag, and tied them both. "You're under arrest. I'll hold you until I can get you to the next town. I can bet that they'll want to deal with you there."  
She sheathed her dirk, pulled a dagger out of her boot, and tugged them to their feet. Once she had Vervain's reins, she mounted and made them walk beside her.  
Her reception in the next town was as she expected: they were road bandits that had bothered the community for a while, and charged in the rape of the mayor's daughter. These two had evaded a company of Riders, the magistrate told her. No one questioned her status as courier to the King; she wore royal uniform. Emma gave her last name of Salven. No one knew what sort of rumours would spread about her, so she travelled under an alias.  
The townspeople were happy to re-provision her and give her a bed for the night. In the morning, refreshed, she travelled and delivered a letter to the baron of a local fief, and completed her first task as a King's courier.  
  
Well, how's that? I put Emma as a messenger/courier right now, and she may or may not change jobs later. After all, she's immortal, she has all the time in the world. Amice comes next, I guess. 


	8. More Than an Ally, Less Than a Friend

Emma's Viewpoints - "More Than An Ally, Less Than A Friend"  
  
Do you realize that this is my 10th Viewpoint? I had no idea that they went by so fast. Here's Emma.  
  
  
  
Getting found out by Laylia was embarrasing. It was a pity that when she shifted, something had to be different than the original. Once Laylia left, Emma searched her rooms.  
  
Suddenly Emma had an idea, and took out her dowsing chain. It was priceless. She had gotten it only last year, with her unicorn glory in the Divine Realms. The smith-god gave it to her in return for a song. The dowser was made out of pure gold, so soft that the whisper of a touch would have bent it if it wasn't spelled against breaking, with four black opals at each corner, and a diamond in the center. The opals aligned themselves to North, East, South, and West. Emma watched as it trembled on its chain, waiting for a purpose.  
  
The diamond was from Shakith's mine, and she sought its powers now to see what Laylia was up to. The dowsing chain beagan to move toward's Laylia's bed. Emma followed it, and concentrated, not noticing Lord Wyldon, the King, Numair, and other scholars and mages gathering to watch her divine.  
  
Her vision came in a flash. She cried out aloud as the power filled her.  
  
Laylia, setting books on a bed. A man came behind her, grabbing her shoulders. Emma heard nothing, but saw Laylia's lips give a frightened cry. The man shouted something, his lips moving, and Laylia dissapeared into a cloud of blackness. She watched as the man beat her, hands curled into fists with elegant shirtsleeves rolled back. Emma cried out, not wanting to see any more.  
  
The magic rushed out of her, blazing white hot. She screamed, burning from intense power. It took all the will she had left to keep it contained in the dowser, and not destroying the entire city. She stood limply, like a rag doll that has been propped up, then fainted.  
  
She awoke, feeling limp, seeing the silver of the dowsing chain inches away on the cold flagstone floor. She saw feet and knees as the king propped her up against the wall.  
  
Trembling, she accepted a cup of herbal tea. Drinking it, she felt better already. The king held out a hand. "May I see the dowsing chain?"  
  
Emma nodded and handed it over. Jonathan examined it thoughtfully. "Where did you get this? I should know of any craftsman able to do so fine and powerful work."  
  
Emma braced herself for stares. "It was made by Lusha, the smith-god. The diamond is from Shakith's mines, and links of silver connect the opals to a chip of unicorn horn, and then to the diamond. It is spelled so that theives who try to take it from me die, and even then it would take a very powerful mage to steal it. It was a gift."  
  
"And so it must be." the king murmured, looking at it closely. "What did you see?"  
  
The vision returned to Emma in a flash. "She's innocent." Emma lurched to her feet and went off to the dining-hall.  
  
The chatter of the pages and squires eating under the supervision of Ezekeo died abruptly as Emma strode in, her eyes glinting emerald under black hair. She crossed to Laylia.  
  
Amice and her circle of friends gazed at Emma fearfully. Emma knelt and gently pulled Laylia's sleeve up her arm. It was riddled with bruises and lacerations. Emma looked at laylia kindly and pityingly. "Don't tell me that you got these in practice. Who did it?"  
  
Laylia grabbed Emma's arm and dragged her out.  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
Emma leaned back and whistled through her teeth. "Well then. Emelia was right about the dark magic."  
  
"She told you?"  
  
Emma gave a short laugh. "In matters like this, everyone tells me everything."  
  
"So now what?"  
  
Emma considered. "What do you know about him?"  
  
Laylia was able to provide a rough description of him, and that she was sure she had seen him somewhere in the palace. Emma nodded, put her notebook away, and stood up. "I'll inform the king, and see what I can do. You have my help, and alliance."  
  
Laylia shook her hand. "Friends?"  
  
"I wouldn't push it that far. Somewhere in between." 


	9. Far Too Trusting

Emma's Viewpoints  
  
Emma fanned herself nervously. She was dressed in a grey silk tunic with green leggings and a surcoat, which was the usual dress for a female warrior while in Court.  
  
She stood in a dressing room at the top of the Great Stairs into the main ballroom. The King had decided that she was to be introduced at court, properly, so here she was.  
  
Nervously she fingered the intricate silver on the hilt of her Gallan dirk. A dirk was the longest blade that commoners were permitted to carry, and as a spy, she couldn't proclaim to all the world her nobility.  
  
The baron George, now her commander, was presenting her at court. The world accepted that since Emma's father was dead and her mother died last year, Alanna and George could foster her.  
  
As a last minute check, she buttoned the small grey pearls that kept her kid gloves on, checked the mirror one last time, and left the dressing room.  
  
Amice stood outside, dressed in crimson shirt and hose with a gold tunic. She wouldn't be introduced until she was knighted.  
  
Emma cursed that tradition dictated she had to wear slippers, and a veil, and Amice didn't. She stuck her tongue out at her stepsister. It's my own fault about the surcoat, Emma thought. I could have stayed on as a page, but no.  
  
Emily stepped out from a hall in the other direction, looking nervous. Emily had it the worst. Emma grinned as her sister's gown nearly tripped her up.  
  
"Stupid skirt." Emily muttered. Emma raised an eyebrow and contained a laugh. For someone able to hang off rafters on a tavern, and a better lock-pick than George himself, Emily looked like she might trip over her braid.  
  
Last to arrive was George. He grinned at the three of them, Emma and Amice aiding Emily, who had her petticoat stuck around her foot.  
  
Emma tried not to laugh. "A fine picture of a noble lady you are, Emmy."  
  
Emily cocked her head to one side. "Maybe we should have Emelia act as a stand-in."  
  
George shook his head. "I thought looking alike was bad enough. Why do your names have to be all alike?"  
  
"We had a very cruel and unusual mother."  
  
The petticoat came unstuck and the chief herald beckoned to them. Emma steeled herself and composed her features into a vaguely smiling mask.  
  
One of the doors swung open. Emma and her sister took either of George's arms. "Baron George Cooper of Pirate's Swoop." the herald decreed as they walked forward. "His foster daughters. Emily of Silvertree and Pirate's Swoop, King's Courier. Emma of Silvertree and Pirate's Swoop, messenger to the king, member of the Cold Mountain Unicorns, Nobles of the Realm of Tortall."  
  
Emma heard the titter that went up as she was intoduced. Three years she had caused an uproar at court by being immortal. She had left, for good, or so she thought.  
  
She bowed, made observances to the king, and at last was free to look for Laylia'sassaultant.  
  
It was infuriating; there were half a dozen men who fit Laylia's description. Emma sighed and split up with Emily, passing her a spelled glass from their Gifted sister. Theoretically, they should be able to see the unmagic through Emelia's glass circles.  
  
The king and queen were about to retire when the two sisters met up again.  
  
"It's no use." Emily said disgustedly. "There's no way that we can spot him cold,or walk along holding a piece of glass to your face. We're going to have to look for him later."  
  
Emma agreed, and after saying goodnight to George, they left. Almost at their rooms, they turned a corner into a dark corridor, and before they knew it, they saw nothing. The last thing Emma felt was her head hitting rock as the unmagic closed over her.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Emma blinked. The world was fuzzy. She squinted and a pair of feet came into focus. She was lying on the floor, and Emily was beside her.  
  
Laughter rang through the room, bouncing off vaulted walls. Emma saw a woman get off a chair placed in the center of the room. She looked like a mercenary; her face was scarred, and a battered cutlass hung at her side. "Well, don't you look a pretty sight." the woman jeered.  
  
"Well, if I'm being compared to you, I guess I must be something worse than a rat." Emma shot back. Emily wasn't moving; that scared her.  
  
The woman's face twisted with hate. "When the master's done with you, I'll personally rip your gut open. Nobody insults me and gets away with it."  
  
"And where is your great master?" Emma asked.  
  
"Oh, he'll come soon enough."  
  
Emma laughed as Emily stirred. "Then your master must be a coward, not to face me when I'm awake." she reached her hand to her belt purse, which still contained her mage's kit. Her dirk and Emma's dagger lay a few feet away. Fumbling, she found her dowser. Touching an opal, Emma called on her power.  
  
A bubble of power appeared around the. "Cut me loose." Emma ordered the woman. "Maybe then I'll tell the chamberlain that you cooperated."  
  
Fear flickered across the woman's face. "All right." she moved to Emily and unsheathed her cutlass. Emma watched her, face stony. "Cut her loose."  
  
In just a second, the woman's cutlass moved up to Emily's throat. "You're much to trusting. Now stop it or I cut her throat."  
  
Panic flashed in Emma's mind. Emily was one of the best friends she had ever had, and was her sister. Reluctantly, she let her sheild drop. The woman slowly reached out and put a collar on her, one with dampener spells.  
  
Emma let her shoulders droop. This idiot thought that a simple damper collar would stop her magic, like the Gift.  
  
With a yell of triumph the woman slit Emily's throat. Blood blossomed on the collar of her green silk evening dress.  
  
Something akin to rage happened. Without thinking, Emma blasted the woman with her magic, knocking her against the wall. If it wasn't for the damper collar she would have incinerated her bones until only ash was left. The clatter of footsteps from far off alerted her. Emma grabbed the weapons, Emily's body, and went into the Divine Realms. 


	10. Home Again

Emma's Viewpoints  
  
Emma lay on her bed, staring out the window to the streets below. She hadn't even bothered to undress. Losing a little sleep wouldn't kill her. That, she thought with a wry chuckle, was the problem. Nothing would.  
  
She had left Emily in a burial cairn in Weiryn's garden, in the Divine Realms.Part of her felt dead, and had been ever since Emily was killed.  
  
Part of her was filled with a deep, smouldering hatred. Emma knew she would hunt Emily's killer until one of them was dead.  
  
The sun was showing above the Royal Forest when there was a knock at the door. Emma swung herself off the bed and opened it dully.  
  
It was Laylia. "Can I come in?"  
  
No you can't, Emma thought. Go away. I hate you and would probably kill you myself if it wouldn't be bad for business.  
  
"Sure."  
  
Trator, she told her mouth.  
  
Laylia sat down beside the bed. Emma looked at the porcelain doll faced girl who was the start of it all. "What?"  
  
Laylia looked down and nervously played with a piece of string from her cloak. "I was wondering if you.. blamed me. For what happened."  
  
Yes, thought Emma. If it weren't for you, and your stupid Gift, and being so special, I could have been happy.  
  
"Yes." her mouth said. "No. You're part of it."  
  
Laylia seemed to quail a little bit. Great, thought Emma. You've hurt her, just like you meant to, and you feel like a monster. Just great.  
  
Laylia stood up, mouth quivering. "All right."  
  
She was gone before Emma knew it.  
  
She took a moment to scribble, "I quit" on a piece of parchment, write a short letter to Amice, and stuff her worldly possesions into a kit bag, and went back into the Divine Realms.  
  
~`~`~`~  
My favorite runaway place, she thought wryly, coming up to Weiryn's house. She left a small copper bracelet, purchased at Port Caynn, at Emily's cairn, and came up to the house.  
  
Weiryn and Sarra recieved a letter from Daine, and Emma spent the night. She felt irritable, and wanted a place that felt like home.  
  
She dreamed that night. She was small again, and still and ordinary, Giftless little girl who wanted to be a knight and fight spidrens. Her father was riding beside her, and they were laughing. It was right alongside the stream. Emma had a rabbit on her pommel, and was pleased with herself because she had managed to shoot it with an arrow.  
  
He is going ot die in a year, the little girl thought with sorrow. But in real life, none of them doubted that Lord Jessen would present Emma with her shield when she was knighted.  
  
Through the trees ahead, Emma caught sight of the pearly shape of a unicorn. She gasped and caught her father's arm. "Look." She pointed.  
  
The unicorn dissapeared. Jessen laughed. "See, Emma. These are things of great magic, and they are a part of our world as much as magic itself. They are allies of the gods and Chaos, immortals are, and them being here means that the gods themselves have a hand in our lives, and in the world itself."  
  
Emma woke up, tears on her pillow. Dawn was just painting a stain of orange on the black-velvet sky. I want to go home, she thought. I want to go home to where things were normal.  
  
~`~`~`~  
  
Emma looked at the imposing fortifications of fief Silvertree. It hadn't changed since childhood.  
  
She took her mare to the stable and put her in Vervain's stall. Vervain had been killed after he broke a leg in the pasture.  
  
"I knew you'd come back."  
  
Emma spun around. "Alaric." she gasped, red at not having heard him.  
  
He grinned, revealing small teeth partly hidden by shy, sensitive lips. He was tall, but with a shy demeanour, a handsome face,brown hair, and hazel eyes.  
  
Emma smiled, looked down, and bit her lip. Alaric had kissed her the year before she left, a couple of times. Her cheeks became a light pink.  
  
"How is everything here?" she asked, moving to unsaddle her mare. She tugged impatiently at the cinch.  
  
"Here." Alaric moved in and slowly slid the leather strap up through the dee ring. "Lady Emelia keeps us on our toes."  
  
"And knees, too, I'm guessing." muttered Emma, slipping a halter onto her mount's head.  
  
"Alaric, you dolt, get out here!" a commanding voice thundered through the stable.  
  
"Speak of the devil." Emma muttered. She stepped out of the stall. "Yes, sister dear?" she asked sweetly.  
  
Emelia gasped, turning red. "I'm sorry- I thought-"  
  
"That I was the stable boy." Emma smiled, showing teeth.  
  
Emma stepped back in the stall and carried her saddle out.  
  
~`~`~`~`~  
  
Dinner that night was simple. Emma had forgotten how much she hated Emelia.  
  
She refused to sit on the dias, and spent the meal with Tarac, the huntsman, and his handsome son.  
  
Smiling, she offered a plate to Alaric. He turned red as he took it. Well well, she thought. Never been able to flirt, eh?  
  
Smiling slightly, she recalled her happiest moments in Silvertree. No sense in avoiding what makes you happy, she thought, as the server passed around another basket of bread. Under the table where nobody could see, she balled up the soft part, and, once the way was clear, flung it at Alaric. 


	11. Hard News, Bad Reactions

"The Truth Comes Out"  
  
"Emma," Larac greeted her. "Ye've come back to the world of the living!"  
  
"Yeah." she grumbled, shaking her cloak free of snow. "You know, I'm surprised that you don't jump on me for leaving like that so often."  
  
He smiled, weathered face creasing. "How am I supposed to know that you won't to burn down my inn, like some mages have tried to do? And you've the best hand at hauling out drunks than any I've ever seen."  
  
Emma shook her head, grinning. She'd seen Larac toss a few of his own.  
  
"Marek wants to see you." he said unexpectedly.  
  
Emma swung around. "What in the name of Chaos would the Rogue want with me?"  
  
The old innkeeper shrugged. "Dunno. I think that it's summat about yon woman as killed your sister."  
  
~`~`~`~`~  
Emma got up, her chair scraping back. "Thank you." she said raggedly. Marek nodded thoughtfully.  
  
Emma went over to the bar. "Larac?"   
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Do you remember, the barfight during Midwinter?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"The one that you nearly broke your leg breaking up?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"The one when I swore never to touch alcohol?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I lied. Gimme."  
  
Larac paused, one eyebrow upraised. "Do you think this is wise?"  
  
"Of course it isn't."  
  
"Well..." Larac held the cup back.  
  
Emma looked at him in deadly earnest. "Emily was killed by one of the Rogue."  
  
Larac handed over the cup without a word.  
  
~`~`~`~`~  
  
Emma was a little worse for the wear, to put it mildly, when Dirk jumped onto the table. Emma grinned.  
  
"Hello, kitty." she said, and fell over.  
  
The ground was hard, but Emma laughed.  
  
A pair of boots came into her limited range of vision. "Hello boots." She looked up and felt cold. "Hello, Amice."  
  
The redhead picked her up. "You're drunk."  
  
"No shit, Amice. However did you guess?"  
  
A young brunette, only about twelve, came in and supported her arm. "Well, Amice. Corrupting the pages already?"  
  
The girl sighed. "Shut up. My name is Kaisha of Leymar, and I'm hardly being corrupted."  
  
Emma smiled. She felt a little dizzy.  
  
A slender white arm crossed her vision to take the cup. "Tsk, tsk." Laylia said, handing it over to Larac.  
  
Emma made a face as if she had smelled something foul. "Well, if it isn't Laylia of Kirgiz Step, the royal squire, come to save us all from getting dirt anywhere near our damask white gloves."  
  
Laylia held her head high but looked away.  
  
Amice and Kaisha began dragging her up the stairs, but Emma didn't stop. "You pretty little bitch. You come here with the common people, but you are just too good for us. You know what? You are a delicate porcelain doll who thinks only of herself. Because if you didn't, I could have been happy. I could have been happy, and Emily would be alive, and that pretty-boy nephew of Amice's wouldn't be following you around like a lovesick dog."  
  
Layla's face twisted in something akin to hate. She looked about to slap Emma, but suddenly turned on her heel and swept out of the room.  
  
~`~`~`~`~  
  
The next morning Emma woke up to a pounding headache and Amice reading in a chair next to her bed. She tried to raise herself on one elbow and groaned.  
  
The redhead put down her book. "Sit." Amice went to the hearth and poured a cup of liquid out of the kettle that was bubbling there. She handed it to Emma. "Drink. It's ma's hangover cure." she said in response to Emma's questioning look.  
  
The brew was bitter; Emma had to force it down. "Ick. What's in this stuff?"  
  
Amice sat back down. "Never mind. Rest right now."  
  
Emma was about to settle back down when she noticed the morning sunlight on the wall. "Amice, what time is it? you'll catch it if you're late!"  
  
"Sunsday."  
  
"Oh."  
  
A knock at the door sounded through the delicious haze in Emma's mind. "I'll get it." she sighed, pushing blankets away.  
  
It was Laylia. Her skin was crimson and her eyes flashed. Her hand came back, hurtled towards Emma's face, and connected with a crack. "Payment for last night." she turned down the hall.  
  
"Wait!" Emma cried, running out into the hallway. "What did I do? What did I say?"  
  
Laylia spun around, holding up a certain finger.  
  
Hurt, and for no reason that she could think of, Emma went back into her room. "What was it?"  
  
"You don't remember?"  
  
"No."  
  
Amice's eyes pleaded over the top of her book. "Don't ask. Just don't ask."  



End file.
